“The days will come when you don't have the strength/ When all you hear is you're not worth anything/ Wondering if you ever could be loved/ And if they truly saw your heart they'd see too much…And praying that you have the heart to fight/ Cause you are more than what is hurting you tonight/ For all the lies you've held inside so long / And they are nothing in the shadow of the cross.” Beautiful, by Mercy Me
I heard part of this song and wanted to send it to a friend, but when I went looking for it, I found I needed it myself. I played it over and over, hoping to get it into my soul. The only part that got in at all is “For all the lies you've held inside so long / And they are nothing in the shadow of the cross.” There are lies I think I might be clinging to. Knowing the truth in my head is almost zero help; I need the power of something greater to get through. Only the cross.
I am angry. Angry at what feels like lack of growth. Angry at my circles, angry at my inability to suck it up and at least pretend to be presentable, and angry that even with my disgraceful lack of presentability my heart cries still get missed. I would say shameless lack of presentability but it’s shame-filled. It is an awful feeling to sell yourself out for the chance to be comforted and then hate yourself for the messy display. There is an epic conflict of convictions—on one hand the certainty that my real self is not acceptable and I should, for the love of everything, put it away, shut it up, don’t say it don’t text it don’t blog it don’t be it and if I must be it, then for God’s sake, hide it. And on the other hand the deep deep plea that if only, only someone would really see and really understand—and love me anyway, love me right there in the middle of it—that the other side of me could go away. Or heal. Or be shown a liar once and for all…
I am angry that I know so many of my thoughts to be lies and yet they feel so true that stepping out of them feels like some kind of betrayal. Let alone that it seems impossible to just step away from them. But I wonder, only just now really, did I know this was a choice? I was angry that it seemed not to be a choice; it seemed for all the world like a trap, a mire. Is it? When you see a lie and acknowledge it, rebuke it…that doesn’t seem to be enough. Have I been choosing to look to the wrong places for help? I swear I thought I was looking in the right direction. Does every single thing I wanted have to fall down around me before I see what still stands? Who still stands. Who has always been standing there, waiting? I thought I had reached for Him, I really did.
Another of my favorite lyrics won’t leave my mind: “On the edge of all I need/ still I cling to what I see/ And what have I there?” Letting go is terrifying. I don’t know if I’m even ready to make this choice…I don’t know if I’m ready to even acknowledge it might be my choice.
What if it doesn’t work?
What if it does?